The Darkest Nights
by Red Dragon - Jura
Summary: Dr Spencer Rossi, 19, has just completed his psychology doctorate, his third in total, and his father couldn't be happier. But Spencer – with help from Gideon – is determined to join the BAU. Dave knows he can't stop his son, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. What follows are some of the darkest nights Spencer will ever face.
1. Baby Boy

The Darkest Nights

(Spencer James Rossi 2)

Summary: Dr Spencer Rossi, 19, has just completed his psychology doctorate, his third in total, and his father couldn't be happier. But Spencer – with help from Gideon – is determined to join the BAU. Dave knows he can't stop his son, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. What follows are some of the darkest nights Spencer will ever face.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

AN: This is an 11 years/ 9 series compilation, ending with Demons. I haven't seen the finale yet, but I do know that Reid gets shot, so that's why I will end it there. Demons and the aftermath will be the sequel. If you want to know how Rossi came to adopt Spencer, I'm working on SJR 1 alongside this fic. It is entitled The Longest Winter.

* * *

Chapter One:

David Rossi couldn't be prouder. His son, at only 19 years of age, had just completed his third doctorate.

Once again, Dr Spencer James Rossi, a provable genius with an IQ of 187, had proven everyone wrong and come out on top. Just as he'd done since he was a baby.

When Rossi had first adopted Spencer, people had denied his child's intellect. Then, even when Spencer's genius had been proven, they'd denied his ability.

Some didn't believe that an adopted child with an occasionally absentee father could make anything of himself, regardless of intellect. Others simply couldn't be bothered to keep up with Spencer, and simply placed him with others far below his boy's intelligence.

Still, Spencer had proved them all wrong when he'd graduated high school at the age of twelve, gaining his first doctorate in Engineering at 15.

Not that the boy cared. He never had done. All Spencer wanted to do was his best, and the only person's opinion he cared about was his father's.

Dave was never anything but proud.

Still, David Rossi was also angry, though not at Spencer.

Dave's old colleague, Jason Gideon, was trying to recruit Spencer into the BAU and Dave didn't like it one bit.

He knew he didn't really have a choice. Spencer was an adult and free to make his own decisions, whatever they may be. Dave knew that Spencer, with a doctorate in psychology now, wanted to be a profiler.

Hell, the kid had been obsessed with Dave's (former) job since he was six.

Dave simply didn't want his baby boy getting hurt.

Spencer had had his fare share of injuries when he was younger, and Dave was certainly used to treating the bumps and 'owies'. He'd never forget rushing a seven year old Spencer into the ER with a spiking fever, finding out his baby had somehow contracted meningitis. The weeks that followed were some of the worst Dave had ever experienced, even in his time at the BAU. Sitting at Spencer's bedside, barely moving, night after night, had taken its toll on the aging profiler. Even more so with the fact that Spencer hadn't even twitched for the first two weeks. When Dave was finally able to take his son home, he hadn't let go of him for a week. Spencer had quickly learnt the true meaning of the word 'smothering' (The dictionary version he knew at 2).

Then there had been broken bones, the flu, bad sunburn…

You name it, Spencer had it. The kid was a walking trouble magnet.

Hence why Dave was so worried.

It wasn't just the physical torture one could endure at the hands of an Unsub, but the mental torture too. Dave knew Spencer was intellectually gifted, but socially the boy was stunted.

Dave had tried everything to get Spencer to join in sports teams or other societies when he was younger, and had succeded only with debate club. That had lasted all of two weeks.

So while Dave knew that Spencer could handle the job itself, he wasn't so sure Spencer could handle the pressures that came with it.

Which is why he was now in Jason's office, trying desperately to stop his face turning beetroot red.

"I know it's Spencer's choice Jason, but you've been pushing him towards it since he was fourteen."

Gideon gave a soft sigh, pushing aside the paperwork he'd been working on. "Dave… Spencer is a grown man. I can't make him do something."

"You're still whispering in his ear Jason!" Dave groaned. His face was lined with stress as well as age, and Gideon frowned.

"I know why you're worried Dave, but you know deep down this isn't about me. You know Spencer has always made his own choices. That's one of the things that makes him so special."

Dave's eyes were on the floor, fingertips gently rubbing his temples. "I know. I just… I don't want to watch him go to work and then find out he isn't coming home…"

"That isn't going to happen." A young voice proclaimed.

Both profilers turned to the door, shocked to see one Dr Spencer Rossi leaning against the frame.

The young man had a small smile on his face however, which Dave was thankful of. It told him Spencer wasn't angry that he'd met with Jason.

"I might not be the most athletic person in the world Dad, but I can take care of myself. I know Gideon and Hotch will watch out for me too, right?"

Jason nodded immediately, smiling at Dave. "I'm not going to let anything happen to him Dave. I promise you that."

"You better." Dave replied, a smile gracing his features now. The lines beneath his eyes had eased now, and his complexion had paled. "I know where you live."

Jason had to laugh, as did Spencer. David Rossi may make threats, but they both knew he was just a sweet teddy bear.

After all, who else would raise a child not their own?

Though all three knew that, in every way that mattered, Spencer was Dave's son.

* * *

"You need to co-sign as I'm under 21."

It was later that night, and the two Rossi's were back home, the younger sat at the dining room table with a stack of papers in his hands.

The smell of lasagne hung in the air, and both men were stuffed after eating their fill of the dish, made with Spencer's home-made spaghetti. At 19, he could cook just as well as his old man, if not better.

The papers were his application to the FBI Academy, and they were the reason he'd been at the BAU that afternoon. He'd needed a recommendation, and had gone straight to Gideon.

The eldest Rossi seemed hesitant to sign, even though he'd made peace with Spencer's decision earlier.

He felt almost as if he was signing away his son's life, even though he knew that was completely irrational.

Spencer seemed to sense this, and gave his father a light smile. "I'll be fine Dad. I promise."

Dave returned the smile with a light sigh. "I am allowed to worry about you."

To his surprise, Spencer just laughed. "I'd be worried if you didn't worry. But at the same time, I'm not a child anymore Dad."

"I know that." Rossi replied, putting the pen back down. If he gripped it any tighter it would break. "I just… Do you remember when you got meningitis?"

"Eidetic memory." Spencer replied, though it was without his usual sarcastic grin. He seemed thoughtful, sad. "Yeah. I remember being so scared, and then waking up with you gripping my hand so tight. I remember the first thing you said to me was 'Hey Cap' because I'd been reading all of those Captain America comics, and it was like when he woke up from the ice."

Dave could hear the emotions in his son's voice, and that only proved his point. "Clearly you're not keen on reliving that again, and neither am I. So you can understand my worry."

"Of course I do." Spencer let out a soft sigh and hugged his dad tightly. "Of course I do. But you know as well as I do that no job is truly safe from the horrors of this world. No matter what I do, I could always be put in danger. At least this way, I'm preventing some of it too."

"I know." Dave forced a smile as he hugged his son back just as tight. "Which is why I've made peace with your choice. I don't like it, but I'll accept it." Pulling away slightly, he scribbled on the dotted line.

Spencer grinned, hugging Dave tightly again once more. "Thanks Dad."

"Anytime kiddo."

Right at that second, Spencer Rossi didn't think he could be any happier.

Little did he know that 11 years from now, he'd be looking back at this day as the last one where he felt any semblance of peace.


	2. Proving Ground

The Darkest Nights

(Spencer James Rossi 2)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

AN: Thank you for all the reviews! :) I know Spencer only joined the BAU at 22, but I'm making him slightly younger. This was so Rossi could be more protective. Also, I've made Spencer's third Phd Psychology because I see him being more interested in it with his dad being an ex profiler. I also see him flourishing more under Rossi, not having to look after Diana, so that's why he's finished his third one younger too. Hope you don't mind :) Enjoy!

Chapter Two

Spencer's first day at the FBI academy was not what he'd hoped. Dressed smartly in a shirt and suit pants, he was not ready to be greeted by a group of men in FBI emblazoned gym gear.

"You think you're running the assault course like that?"

The first words out of Spencer's mouth were a low squeak. "Assault course?"

They'd pretty much balked at that, saying they didn't know Dave Rossi's kid was such a wimp.

The day had pretty much continued that way, much to Spencer's chagrin. It was like he was back in high school again.

It was past seven now, and Spencer was only just stumbling through the front door, dirty, sweaty, and covered in already forming bruises.

Dave was immediately at his side, "are you alright?", but Spencer shied away from his touch.

"I'm fine!" He snapped, though he immediately regretted it when he saw the downtrodden look on his Dad's face.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, gaze downcast. "Bad day."

Rossi's expression was sympathetic, eyes gazing over his son's torn and dirty outfit, as if he knew exactly what had gone wrong.

"Please don't…" Spencer could already hear his dad's speech forming, and it was not at all what he needed. "I just want to go to bed."

He didn't even wait for a reply, simply shuffling into his room with a pained expression, one ankle clearly swollen.

Dave sighed, running a hand over his face.

This was exactly why – or at least one of the reasons why – he hadn't wanted Spencer to join the academy. He knew how horrible some of the students could be, despite their age and chosen career path. They were like alpha lions, picking on the weak, and while Spencer was far from it, that was all they would see him as.

A second sigh left his lips as he picked up the phone.

He had a few calls to make.

* * *

The next day, Spencer woke feeling stiff and sore. It was not the best way to wake up, especially with his head pounding as soon as he shifted out of the duvet, and he knew that the day would only get worse.

It was pessimistic, he knew, and Spencer generally wasn't pessimistic, but after the horrible ten hour day he'd just experienced, it was all his thoughts would allow.

The only thing he could pray for was that there wasn't any more obstacle courses.

He winced as his injured ankle hit the cold wooden floor, but bit back any further reaction.

Spencer Rossi – Doctor Spencer Rossi – was not weak.

He slipped on the one pair of jogging bottoms that he owned and a BAU t-shirt his father had gotten for him one Christmas – custom made – before making his way into the main room.

Today, he would show them all what he was really made of.

He didn't expect the frown he received from his father when he entered the room though, the older man looking pointedly at his clothing.

"Just in case." Spencer shrugged, sitting down and helping himself to a pile of eggs. His dad's scrambled eggs had always been the best in Spencer's eyes.

"You don't need them." Replied Rossi, and Spencer felt his fork clatter back onto the plate. His eyes were locked on his father. "I called in a few favours."

Spencer's eyes narrowed immediately and he felt his anger boil. "You pulled me out of physical classes didn't you?"

"Spencer…"

"What about weapons training? Has that been pulled too?"

Rossi sighed softly. He'd expected this reaction. Spencer had never liked being treated as different, but sometimes the kid had to understand that he was different. He would flourish better in the classroom. He'd get all the credits he needed from there.

"A profiler isn't required to carry."

But that only made Spencer angrier. "I can't believe you!" He stood, chair falling to the floor with a crack. Snatching up his bag, he bolted for the front door. Rossi couldn't get a word in before his son was out of sight.

"Well, that went well…"

* * *

After their fight, Spencer was actually glad when he reached the academy and found that they were doing the assault course again. Not only would he show those around him that he was worthy of the Rossi name, but he would show his father too.

His gifts may be in the intellectual and academic area of life, but that didn't mean he was completely useless out in the field. He could be just as tough, strong and agile as everyone else.

He just needed to prove it.

He ran the assault course that day to the best of his ability, but it still wasn't enough.

Only half way through his lungs began to burn, legs aching as a thin trail of blood dripped down them. His hair was mussed, entire body covered in mud. But that didn't stop him.

He blocked out the ridicule from the others, who'd already finished, and forced himself to keep going.

He jumped the hurdles, swam through the lake, and climbed the ropes as best as he could, muscles aching, but in the end he only shaved ten minutes off his time.

For the first time in his life, Spencer Rossi felt weak.

The screaming pain in his fist only added to his injuries as he smacked it into a wall.

Why couldn't he do it? Why couldn't he be as good as the others? As good as his dad?

He knew it was a stupid question. They weren't nearly as good as him in the classroom, and everyone had to have weaknesses. That was human nature.

But still, did he have to be so bad at physical sports?

Couldn't he just be average?

Clearly, Spencer's scale was only 'genius' or 'doofus'.

And yet, his father's discouraging act – his inability to think Spencer could do the physical part of training on his own – sparked something inside of him.

His father had never discouraged Spencer before, so why now?

Why did he seem to think that when it came to field work, Spencer couldn't take care of himself?

For once, he didn't know the answer. But he did know what he needed to do.

When Spencer finally left the locker rooms, having spent a good half hour there in solitude, he went straight back to the obstacle course.

He tried to look at every obstacle as a maths problem; an equation that needed to be solved.

Slowly, he began to understand each task and how it was to be accomplished. With a wide smile, he made his way to the red flag marked '1'.

That night, Spencer ran the course three times. In the end, he completed it in just over an hour. Forty five minutes was the average.

He was getting better, he thought with a proud smile.

Little did he know that David Rossi had seen the whole thing, and despite how he'd felt at all of Spencer's graduations, it was at this point that he felt he couldn't be prouder.


End file.
